


One Night, One Life

by Soaring_Ren (Robin_Knight)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Dubious Consent, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Internalised Racism, M/M, Mpreg, One Night Stands, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-20 02:08:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9470651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_Knight/pseuds/Soaring_Ren
Summary: Keith envied the Paladins.He often wished Shiro had not chosen to protect him; if he had been allowed to go with his friends to explore the ruins, perhaps if he had been on the Lion that took them into space, then perhaps he - too - could have been a part of Voltron.It was a dream that was on par with his wish to be human.The discovery of his Galra heritage hit hard, but worse when one mistake - one terrible mistake - resulted in his heritage betraying him to the worst extent. He couldn't tell Shiro. Shiro was the only family he had left.





	1. Chapter 1

# One Night, One Life

Keith waited outside the main doors.

The air chilled him to the bone; there were small clouds of steam with every breath, while his body jostled from side-to-side in an attempt to keep constant movement, and he began to regret the fingerless gloves that allowed for numb skin. There were patterns of frost cast across the courtyard, while the area was deprived of almost all life. The only sounds came from inside the Garrison. No one dared venture outside in such harsh weather.

Keith brought his hands to his mouth. He breathed warm air upon them. The warmth and moisture combined with the friction, as he rubbed them together and cast his eyes about the courtyard, before he began to grow impatient. There was a beautiful light from the sky. It cast down moonlight and starlight across the harshly lit buildings, creating a strange effect that was almost ethereal. Keith could see inside some of the room, past the glass and through the lack of drawn curtains, and witnessed the life inside as teachers and students bustled about.

There was a loud crack across the courtyard.

It was a sound that stole his attention, as he shot his blue-grey eyes to the cause. There – standing tall enough to block out some of the floodlights at the far exit – stood Sendak dressed in the full instructors uniform. The grey-and-black material complemented the purple fur in a surprising manner, while the sleeve of his left arm was pinned at the shoulder, so that the excess fabric would not cause a nuisance. Keith held back a grimace at the sight of the cybernetic eye, which gave a glow that could compete with all other lights.

“You are the boy that was expelled,” observed Sendak.

Keith flinched and lowered his hands into his pockets. He kept his eyes low, but his head high, as Sendak marched toward him with the commanding presence that only a Galra could possess. The newly appointed instructor stopped a few feet from Keith. It was strain to look up into those impassive eyes, which stared down with an unblinking intensity, and Keith – as he fisted his hands until nails drew crescent-shaped bubbles of blood – took a deep breath and looked directly into that all too familiar face. He ignored Sendak’s chuckle.

“I was expelled before the war started,” muttered Keith.

“You realise how hated my people have become, yes?” Sendak cast his eyes down the lithe – yet toned – body with a raised eyebrow. “I was lucky to be saved during the war, luckier still to be given a job at this Garrison of yours, and you would have me risk my safety with your presence. I doubt my employer wishes me to socialise with those expelled.”

“This is important. Shiro told me about you; he told me stuff that didn’t make it into the criminal trials, as well as stuff that was probably never put on record, and I know – out of everyone that’s a part of the Voltron Alliance – only you can help me.”

“Let us not discuss the trials.” Sendak waved a hand with a grimace. “If I remember rightly, you are considered like a brother to the Black Paladin. I owe my freedom to the Champion.” There was a long pause and a hiss of breath. “Very well. I will give you five minutes to explain why you have come to me for help. You know that I am not well liked among the Paladins, yes? This is not a fact that could have escaped you.”

Keith knew well the legend of Voltron. He cast his eyes across the courtyard to the stone statue, which represented the saviour of the universe, and he wondered – if had it not been Shiro leaving with the others in the dead of night, refusing to let Keith be involved with something so dangerous – if he would have been a Paladin himself. The shadow cast by the statue was long and dark. It stopped just a few feet above his head on the wall behind, where the chill from the shade sent shivers through his spine. Keith sighed and said:

“There’s something I need you to see.”

Keith reached for the blade hidden by his side; the hilt was wrapped in fabric, which – when removed – revealed a symbol now known to be associated with the Galra resistance movement, and the blade itself was one used by the Galra people. Sendak did not take the blade. The older man quirked an eyebrow and lifted his head, as he observed the metal with a strange detachment. He soon flared his nostrils and gave a hiss of breath.

“Follow me, boy,” commanded Sendak.

The older man walked past him. It was a quick and sharp pace, so that every step slapped against the stone slabs, and he kept his back straight and head high as he walked. Keith struggled to maintain the same speed. He followed through the main doors and through a series of corridors much alike a labyrinth, so only his memory of those years previous helped maintain his sense of direction and alignment. There were very few staff and students about, but the few that existed were prone to staring in scepticism.

Keith kept his head low, avoiding the gazes of the few that might remember him, and tucked the blade back out of sight down the side of his clothing. It was warmer inside. The skin on his cheeks and ears began to sting, as it adjusted to more bearable temperatures, and he brought his hands – fingers bared due to fingerless gloves – to his mouth. He blew hot air upon them, desperate for some warmth to take away the painful edge.

They soon came to Sendak’s office. The door was unlocked with a great amount of skill, as Sendak was forced to use only one hand for the job of two, and soon revealed an immaculate space far at odds with the rest of the Garrison. There was a blatant black-and-purple décor, much like those aboard Galra ships, and it reinforced the view that the Galra were also slaves to certain fashions, much like the human race. Sendak took a seat behind a desk, where his hand worked at a computer much on par with Galra and Altean technology.

“Where did you get tech like that?” Keith asked.

He stood opposite Sendak, as he looked at the holographic screen. The language was that of Sendak’s people, although – with recent speculations and concerns – Keith had forced himself to learn a few words and enough to be ‘conversational’. It was something that amused the librarian at the public library. Keith still blushed when he remembered how the Galra man, so excited to find a human willing to learn their language, laughed when Keith responded to a compliment with an apparent come-on. He had yet to master pronunciation.

“The Resistance readily shared our technology with the universe,” said Sendak in a cold voice. “I would disapprove, but it likely ensured our place within the Voltron Alliance. Those soldiers like myself – who were soldiers due to coercion, whose records are unblemished with murder or abuse of power – have found redemption in sharing what we know in turn.”

“They actually _trust_ you?” Keith gave a snort of derision. “You were a total sadist! Shiro told me what you did to him . . . what you _said_ to him . . . you used his mind against him, used his trauma to your advantage, and for what -? You lost the war.”

“How ironic. You mock your leaders for trusting me, but you freely give me that same trust.” Sendak touched upon the screen and brought up a list of records. “If it puts your mind at ease, you will be glad to know that I have been ‘chipped’ and my movements monitored. They even record and monitor my usage of all technology, my correspondence, and have forced me onto an indefinite ‘probation’. Even my room is shared with a ‘trusted’ human.”

Keith perched at the edge of the desk. He remembered this office as being promised to Shiro, a reward for his promotion that would come upon his return from Kerberos, and he wondered what it would have looked like had his closest friend left an imprint. The screen flickered with various words . . . ‘list’, ‘Galra’, ‘authorised’ . . . nothing he could comprehend past fleeting words and odd phrases. He pursed his lips and watched as Sendak navigated the programmes and files with great expertise and speed, as he asked in a quiet voice:

“So they’ll know you helped me?”

“They cannot blame one Galra for helping another,” said Sendak.

It was the first time hearing the words aloud. Keith raised his hand, where he flexed his fingers and swallowed hard at the sight, and he wondered what would have become of him in a world where he looked more like a Galra. He felt his mouth run dry, as he opened and closed his lips in search of words, and soon he dropped his hand with a heavy gesture. It slapped against the wood of the desk. There was a sharp pain, along with a reddening of the skin, and Keith simply stared ahead with glassy eyes at the office doors.

There were noises from outside, as a few instructors held a conversation. The computer screen clicked and beeped with various sounds, each one more obnoxious than the last, and there was no rhythm to the noise all about him. Sendak took deep breaths, somewhat loud and with a slight whistle on each exhale, and Keith realised that he was breathing rapidly in turn, choking in breaths and struggling to maintain his composure. Keith spat:

“You – You called me ‘Galra’.”

“Indeed.” Sendak glanced to Keith with a smirk. “That blade belongs to our Resistance. I trust that you did not steal the blade? I have seen how you fight and pilot like our people, while your inclinations and instincts are also like our kind. Where did you get that blade?”

“I was given it by my mother. Had it since I was born.”

“What do you know about your father?”

Keith shrugged. There were few memories worth the remembrance, but he remembered well the man that always reminded him a little of Shiro in appearance. They lived in the shack for some time, forging a relationship that perhaps left the word ‘relationship’ a little too generous, and then one day there was simply an absence of him. It wasn’t even as if Keith knew he was missing at first. It took time to notice. He was simply there and then simply not, with the transition in between so seamless that it was hardly a transition at all.

“Human. Deadbeat.” Keith shrugged. “Abandoned me.”

“You have memories of him?” Sendak tilted his head in observation. “Interesting. You may have noticed a distinct lack of females within our species. We have only one gender. If your father was human, it implies a certain predilection for the male gender, as your kind seems to define us as distinctly ‘male’. Very few Galra have visited this planet, even with the Alliance now in place. If the Resistance have been as forthcoming with their records as they claim -?”

“Then there should be a record of who came to Earth eighteen years ago, right around the time I was conceived, right?” Keith heard his blood pulse in his ears. “If no one came to Earth then, it would mean I’m fully human. Does it say if anyone came to Earth? I look human, so it’s possible I’m just . . . human. That would make sense, wouldn’t it?”

Sendak raised a hand to signal for silence. He scrolled along the screen with one finger, until he tapped at a word and highlighted a bar upon a grid pattern, which revealed a large amount of information written in the Galra language. Keith caught one word ‘deceased’ and another ‘spouse’, but the rest of the words were essentially gibberish. He ran a hand over his face, as he blinked away his surprise, and leaned further back to see the screen properly, even as Sendak growled and swatted him away with a firm hand. Sendak said:

“One of their men visited Earth at that time.”

“Do you have a name?” Keith asked.

“Thace.” Sendak tapped a finger upon the table. “I knew him. He was mated to one named Ulaz. I do not see him as the unfaithful type, but you would not look human were your father merely an adoptive parent. I can look further into this, but it would be simple to test your DNA to prove your heritage. I shall arrange for you to visit the medical bay.”

“Wait. You seriously think that this Thace could be my -?” Keith raised a hand to his head. “Don’t. Don’t look into it further. Just . . . Just let’s get my DNA tested. I don’t really care about _how_ I came to exist; I just want to know _what_ I am. How long until the results?”

“The results are instantaneous. There will be no wait.”

“Okay, then let’s go. I want to know.”

Sendak reached out to turn off the computer. The screen fizzled away, leaving only an empty darkness whereas before there had been a bright light, and Keith struggled to allow his eyes to adjust to the change in shadows. He jumped to his feet, forcing himself to breathe at a regular speed, as he dug a hand into his shaggy hair. Sendak came around him and pressed a hand against the door, with fingers outstretched, blocking the only way out.

“There will be prejudice,” warned Sendak.

The silence that followed gave Keith time to think, as he looked to the blocked door. He knew that the Galra often kept to their own planets, rarely venturing outside of their now insular communities, and those that emigrated – often those from the Resistance – still suffered immense discrimination for their race alone. Keith swallowed back his fear, knowing that nothing could change the truth, and clenched his hands into tight fists by his sides. He drew in a deep breath and locked eyes with Sendak, as he said firmly:

“Let’s get going.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

There came a loud knock.

Keith ignored the abrupt sound; there were too many noises to process, from the rapid beating of his heart to the choked sobs that escaped his lips, and he struggled to comprehend all other sensations and words through his haze. The shack was far too cold. There were goosebumps over his skin, while a draught blew from under the front door and sent swirls of dust and dirt around the floor. It made distracting patterns that stole his attention.

There was a sharp pain in his left arm. Keith could not see clearly through his tears, with vision blurred and eyes stinging from the sweat, but he could tell that the deep gash would scar and leave a lingering mark. It stung, almost like a burn, but tingled with an all too familiar sensation, and the blood – steadily bubbling from the centre of the wound – warmed the rest of his otherwise cold skin. The Galra blade sat beside him. It was tinged red at the edges, while he could practically feel the presence of it beside him.

‘ _Keith, I know you’re in there,’_ called Shiro. ‘ _Open up.’_

There was a large bloodstain on the side of his shirt, which soon felt uncomfortable and sticky against his skin. He continued to clutch his arm to his chest. There was a spark of panic. The bleeding was more intense than he expected, while he could see a strange and almost white line between the two sides of the cut, as if he had reached fat or another layer of skin, and he could only hope that it would stop on its own. He leaned back against the wall, grateful that the fabric pinned over the windows stopped Shiro from seeing inside.

He heard a click in the lock. The door was soon opened, likely with Shiro’s spare key, and revealed his friend in the doorway with a furrowed brow. Shiro was still dressed in his instructors’ uniform, with the sides of his hair shaved to a dark shadow, and the white streak upon his forehead was a little longer than when Keith last saw him. He looked pale. The scar across his nose and cheeks was most prominent, as he narrowed his eyes upon Keith.

The reaction was slow; Shiro simply looked upon Keith for the longest time, until his eyes eventually widened and his lips parted with unspoken words, and – as he slammed shut the door with a loud curse – he ran to where the younger man had curled up against the wall. There were strong hands upon Keith. They gripped his upper arms until he worried they might bruise, before they practically dragged him into the makeshift kitchen in the tiny adjacent room, while his bare feet scrambled for purchase on dusty floorboards.

“L-Let go of me, Shiro,” mumbled Keith.

Keith blushed and felt his cheeks redden. The white shirt – with left sleeve rolled up – was the only clothing that protected his body from wandering eyes, while a matching set of boxers kept his modesty just enough to prevent him from being indecent. He was far smaller than Shiro, whose muscular build and large height gave him an advantage over Keith, and soon he was shoved against the kitchen counter with great force. The edge of the wood jammed into his ribs. Shiro stood behind him, trapping him in place, as he grabbed for his forearm.

The front of Shiro was pressed flush against his back, while his friend’s organic fingers encircled his wrist until there was a stab of pain. Keith watched the cybernetic hand. It fumbled with the tap in front of them, before it wrenched out various dirty dishes from the sink, and soon – with a burst of speed – his forearm was forced under running water. Keith cried out, as he instinctively tried to pull away, only to be held in place. Shiro said:

“It needs to be cleaned and disinfected, Keith.”

“It’s – It’s fine,” muttered Keith.

“No, this is _not_ fine.” Shiro gently turned his arm. “This doesn’t look like a suicide attempt, but you’re going to need to talk to me, Keith. Self-harm isn’t a healthy coping mechanism. It’ll be lucky if you avoid stitches; okay, I think it’s all cleaned out, just tell me where you keep your first-aid box and I’ll get this patched up for you. Is it close by?”

Keith blinked away the tears. He leaned back against Shiro, using the other’s body for support, while he watched the red water swirl down the drain. The sky beyond the window was black, with only the stars providing any light so far out into the desert, and it provided a momentary distraction as the devastation was turned into numbness. Keith barely noticed as he was manoeuvred into a kitchen chair. There was a cold sensation of cold wood upon skin, as Shiro placed his arm on an elevated position. Shiro gave a loud exhale of breath.

“Keith! First-aid box! Now!”

There was a slam of an open palm on the table. It jostled the wood and caused a small spark of pain to shoot through Keith’s arm, as the movement aggravated the cut. Keith let his eyes fall upon Shiro; he blinked rapidly and flexed his fingers, as he shook his head and soon felt his vision sharpen and focus. Keith ran his right hand over his face, as he let out a shuddered breath with a shake of his head. He waved a hand across the room.

“Under the sink,” said Keith. “On the left.”

Shiro quickly moved over to the sink, where he dropped to his knees. There was a sudden succession of sounds, as various items were moved and dropped, and soon – as Keith let his head droop with a woozy sensation – the first-aid box was placed before him. He struggled to comprehend what came next. There was a blur of movements and sensations, with pressure being applied and various gels, until his arm was wrapped in cool bandages.

He soon felt something cold upon his hand. Keith struggled to focus, but soon realised that there was a glass within his grip. The water looked cloudy, likely Shiro had emptied one of the nutrient sachets into it, and – despite the healthy ‘electrolytes and vitamins’ – it always tasted oddly of blackcurrant. Keith remembered the last time he suffered with a bad bug, where Shiro had forced him to ‘re-hydrate’. It was hard not to resent those drinks. Keith drank anyway, too tired and dizzy to argue, when Shiro asked in a deep voice:

“Do you want to tell me why you did this?”

“Not really.” Keith flinched, as he placed the glass down. “I’m guessing Sendak told you everything. You wouldn’t be here unless you had reason to worry. I’m pretty sure you’d rather have spent the evening with Allura than stuck in a shack with me.”

“Actually, I was already on my way here.” Shiro gave a small half-smile. “I wanted to ask Allura on a date, maybe show her around the local area, but whenever we’re alone . . . well . . . I can think of everything to say _except_ the one thing I want to say. I told Sendak that I was coming to see you, as I wanted your advice, and that’s when he told me about your test results. It was hard to do anything except race straight here. I knew you’d take it hard.”

“You should have gone straight to Allura. I’m fine, Shiro, but can you blame me for being upset? It may have been different had I been a part of your team, but I can just imagine what everyone will say about the guy who they only know as ‘Shiro’s friend’. Allura _hates_ the Galra. Do you think she’ll react well? What if she makes you choose between her and me?”

Shiro gave an almost imperceptible flinch. He looked down with a serious expression, before he raised his head and locked eyes with Keith. It was no secret that Shiro had feelings for Allura; they had grown dramatically during their time together, enough that a relationship seemed inevitable from an outside perspective, but Shiro – too afraid of gaining something for fear of losing it – appeared to fight his feelings at every step. Shiro took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, as he forced a smile and nodded his head.

“Allura isn’t like that,” insisted Shiro.

Keith could see that his friend romanticised the woman. There was a softening to Shiro’s eyes, as he pursed and played with his lips, and he soon looked off into the distance with an expression that was difficult to read. Keith raised an eyebrow and sighed, as he watched Shiro fidget with the first-aid kit. It was soon packed away and put back in its place. Shiro began to pace for a while, unable to keep still, until Keith massaged at his temple through the nauseating feeling that came from watching so much movement. Keith said coldly:

“They’re all like that where the Galra are involved.”

“No, they’re not.” Shiro smiled and sat back down. “Allura would take it pretty badly at first, but I think she would come to understand. You have to appreciate the fact that the Galra killed her people . . . it was genocide, Keith, and that’s not something you can rationalise or just ‘get over’ without a lot of work and time to process events. It may be that she’s always a little prejudice, because too much has told her otherwise than to trust the Galra, but –”

“What about Hunk or Pidge?” Keith interrupted. “What about _Lance_? It’s been months since you guys returned from war, but he still keeps treating me like a rival. Do you think he won’t see me as an enemy when he finds out what I am? I wanted him to see me as a friend. We had bonding moments. It felt more like teasing than bullying, but if I’m a Galra . . .”

“If you’re a Galra, he will still respect you. Do you know why he teases you? It’s a little bit jealousy and a little bit being confused about his feelings. I think he has a crush on you. It’s difficult for a guy who’s always thought himself straight, so he – you know – acts out.”

“There’s no way he could like a Galra,” said Keith.

Keith blushed and swallowed hard. He looked away, unable to make eye contact with Shiro, but his eyes fell upon a photograph tagged to the fridge with childish magnets. It was a group shot. There were all the Paladins, along with Coran and Allura, and – next to Lance – was Keith with a nervous expression and yet clearly welcomed as part of the ‘team’. He let his eyes fall to the floor, unwilling to look too long at Lance. The fear was real. He knew the air he breathed and the languages he spoke were human, but his blood was Galra.

There followed a long silence, until Shiro reached out to touch his hand. It was a gentle and intimate touch, much like the ones shared when growing up in proximity to one another, and Keith smiled despite himself. Shiro was like a brother to him. The way he traced circles with his thumb on tanned flesh, holding soft skin in callused fingers, helped to reassure Keith that maybe things wouldn’t be too bad in the long run. He still had Shiro’s support.

They sat quietly together. The unspoken question lingered in the air. Shiro moved closer, where his knees pressed against the bare skin of Keith, and he used his other hand to come up and meet its partner upon the table. There was a strong scent of iron in the air, as the blood began to dry upon his shirt, and Keith fidgeted in his seat and looked away with a frown upon his features. He just wanted to feel something, almost as much as he wanted to forget everything, and he barely noticed as Shiro leaned into his personal space.

“I just wanted to see if I had Galra blood,” whispered Keith.

There was a hiss of breath from Shiro. Those dark eyes began to water, as his lips trembled and he visibly swallowed in a way that sent a wave of guilt through Keith. A hand came up to touch upon Keith’s cheek; it was difficult to resist the urge to nuzzle into it, as Keith longed for some form of comfort during his grief, only the touch irked him in a way that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. He tried to pull away, only for Shiro to reach back. Keith found his head held in place, unable to protest lest he offend his friend, and he forced a smile.

“Maybe I should stay the night,” suggested Shiro.

“I don’t need to be on suicide watch,” teased Keith. “You can go. It’s fine. You’re like a brother to me, Shiro, but right now I don’t need a brother. I just need . . . to be alone. I hate feeling this way; I just want the pain to stop, to feel something, to . . . I don’t know.”

Keith saw how Shiro looked at him. There was a loneliness there that Keith recognised every time he saw his reflection, but also what looked like a desire for comfort and distraction. There was a flush to Shiro’s cheeks and a dilation to his pupils, and Keith – feeling an uncomfortable spark of nervousness – tried to pull away once more, only to see the brief expression of rejection in his friend’s eyes. Keith couldn’t bear to disappoint Shiro. He forced a smile and leaned back against the hand upon his cheek, trying to calm his racing heartbeat.

“I don’t know what it’s like, Keith,” whispered Shiro.

“What? I don’t think I follow, Takashi.”

“I don’t know what it’s like to hate your own skin.” Shiro moved his cybernetic hand to Keith’s thigh. “I can only imagine what pain you’re going through, but I know what it’s like to be alone and frightened. I still suffer with nightmares even now. The flashbacks are the worst, like I’m reliving the pain, and sometimes it feels like I’m not even in my own body.”

“S-Shiro, I think we may want different things.” The cut upon his arm ached and burned. “I can’t be strong for the both of us. I can barely be strong enough for myself! I love you, but I’m not looking for a relationship with you. I can’t give you what you need.”

“I know that, Keith. I would never ask that of you; I swore I would always protect you and look after you, so if you tell me to leave then I’ll leave. I won’t do anything without your permission. I know that I have Allura to support me, so I don’t need you to be my counsellor or sponsor, but I know I just need a distraction . . . I don’t want a relationship, either. If I did, it’d be with Allura . . . I just want one night. I thought maybe you would, too?”

Keith glanced to the windows. He wondered what happened beyond the stars; they shone bright and provided a beautiful light, but they now marked places far across the universe that no other humans – aside from the Paladins – had ever seen. Keith furrowed his brow and pursed his lips, as he wondered whether Shiro had slept with others so casually during his captivity, perhaps even with the other Paladins or Alteans, and if morality or social norms even factored into things the same way they did on Earth. He fought his confusion.

The thumb on his cheek rubbed in light circles, while the one upon his hand moved to his thigh, and he knew flirtations when he saw them. Keith felt his stomach churn, as it gave low and awkward noises, and he bit his lip until he tasted the iron of blood upon his tongue, but – even as he tried to convince himself that this was okay – it still felt wrong. He wanted affection and comfort, but he wondered whether it needed to come in such a form.

“I don’t know,” said Keith. “Maybe?”

“You’re in a bad way.” Shiro sighed. “I – I’m not sure why I thought this was a good idea. It’d be like taking advantage, but I thought maybe we could both just feel better for a few hours, forget our troubles . . . I’m sorry. I’ll go make up the spare cot. I’m not going to leave you alone in this condition, Keith. I’ll never leave you alone.”

Shiro pulled his hand away. He ran his digits over his face with a deep exhale of breath; he looked to Keith with an expression as close to shame as recognisable, with cheeks pale and eyes downcast to avoid looking at Keith in a direct manner. The way he stood revealed the deep exhaustion in his body. Those limbs moved slow and with great deliberation, while his shoulders slumped and his back arched, and he heaved another breath as he clapped a hand upon Keith’s shoulder. Shiro began to walk away, leaving Keith behind.

The previous worries made way for absolute loneliness, as Keith prepared to see his closest friend walk away once more . . . first Kerberos, then Shiro’s departure . . . he heard his heart race in his chest, while his dizziness returned full force. Keith snatched out for Shiro’s wrist. He felt with great strength, forcing Shiro to stay in place. There was a moment of silence, as Keith struggled to let out his words and allowed his lips to open and close.

“No, wait!” Keith begged. “Please.”

Shiro took a step back. He placed a hand on the back of the chair, where his thumb touched briefly upon Keith’s shoulder with a light touch, and soon – as Keith craned his head backward to see his friend in full – it became obvious that intimacy was an inevitability. Keith swallowed back his panic and embarrassment, as he forced a smile that shook at the corners and betrayed his disinterest. He asked in broken breath:

“This would make you happy?”

“It’s not about me,” whispered Shiro. “It’s about you. I thought tonight would just be us talking about relationships, maybe drinking out on the porch, but then you found out about your Galra heritage . . . you hurt yourself . . . I’m being so goddamned selfish and –”

“W-Would this ruin our friendship? Would it change things?”

“Not unless you wanted things to change.”

 _It would just be one time, one night,_ thought Keith. He held tight to the cloth at Shiro’s wrist, unsure whether to let go or hold tighter, and he turned around on his seat to face his friend with a wide smile and half-wet eyes. It was painful to tilt his neck upward; he looked up at Shiro with wide eyes and a hopeful expression, as he thought about simply being close to someone he so loved, simply feeling something other than pain and humiliation. Keith struggled to speak, as he let his fingers trace patterns upon that forearm, and asked:

“Just one night? Promise?”

Shiro gave a warm smile and reached for Keith’s hand. The touch was warm and gentle, as callused fingers massaged at his bare skin, and – for a brief moment – Keith felt less alone and actually connected to another person. There was a great deal of pain in his forearm, where the cut throbbed beneath the bandages, but the blood that spilled looked so human that he could almost fool himself into believing himself to _be_ human. Shiro leaned down to press a kiss to Keith’s forehead, where his lips lingered and warm breath warmed cold skin.

“I promise,” said Shiro.

 


	3. Chapter 3

“I’m pregnant.”

The reaction was instantaneous: Lance paled. He fell forward, forearms sliding off his legs and head jolting with the abrupt movement, and he caught himself at the last moment. It would have been almost humorous, were it not for the wide-open mouth and wide-open eyes, both marking an absolute terror borne out of mixed emotion. Lance paused in total silence. There were no words, even as he eventually blinked away his shock and shook his head.

Lance soon threw himself back against the porch chair. Those blue eyes fell upon Keith, who leaned against the porch pole with folded arms and gazed turned to the distance. The cold weather chilled him through the short jacket and fingerless gloves, but he maintained as stoic an expression as he could muster, while he tried to ignore how his boyfriend gestured in an inane and wild manner to words that wouldn’t come. The porch roof cast them in shadow, even as it protected them from the hash sunlight. Dirt kicked up around their feet.

There was already a curve to Keith’s stomach, made obvious with tight clothes. It was noticeable enough that Shiro and Pidge teased him about his diet, although not yet noticeable enough that anyone other than Sendak gave him ‘the look’, and he liked how Lance ran his hands over it at night with soft touches and smooth fingertips. Lance never mocked him. There were jokes at first, but they stopped with a firm word. Lance respected his emotions.

“Okay,” said Lance. “You’re going to have to say that again.”

“I’m pregnant.” Keith shrugged. “You know . . . with child?”

“I know what ‘pregnant’ means! I just don’t get how you _can_ be pregnant when – well – _you know_ . . . you’re a total dude! We might not have ‘made the quiznak with two backs’ or whatever, but I’m _sure_ I felt an erection when making out! Oh, that leads me to my next point. We never actually _had_ sex, so . . . yeah? This a joke, right?”

Keith pinched the bridge of his nose. He let his right arm rest upon the curve of his stomach, while he fought the urge to touch upon it with his hand, and instead he lowered his head and closed his eyes to let the darkness provide some comfort. There were sounds of dirt scratching along the floorboards, as the wind picked up speed, while he could hear Lance kicking at the porch with heavy thuds of his feet, and soon there came laughter from the television inside the shack, as a talk show played in the background.

“It’s not a joke,” said Keith in a stern voice.

“You -! You’re going to have to explain this,” muttered Lance. “How? Just . . . how?”

“It’s the Galra blood.” Keith lowered his hand and shrugged. “I didn’t believe it, either, not until Coran pulled me aside one night and asked me about it. He was pretty discreet. I don’t think he’s said anything to Shiro or Allura, which is good, because I honestly couldn’t deal with that right now. He took me to see Sendak, who pretty much confirmed it.”

“I – I guess it kind of makes sense? Like, now you mention it, I don’t think we ever saw any female Galra out in space or anything. Still, you can’t get pregnant from kissing . . . can you? Is that like a Galra thing? Did we exchange DNA or something?”

“N-No, that’s -!” Keith blushed and massaged his temples. “That’s not a thing. Look, the best explanation Sendak gave me was relatively simple. The back passage acts a lot like the oesophagus and epiglottis, so when you’re aroused enough then the valve opens and the seed had a place to go. I should be able to deliver naturally; it’s not quite like a human behind, so I won’t tear or die, but . . . yeah . . . there still has to be sex. There just does.”

There was a strange silence. Keith barely noticed it at first, until he moved his hands away from his head and looked to Lance with a raised eyebrow. The other man was slumped forward in his chair, with forearms rested upon his thighs and blue eyes cast down to the floor, and those eyes – eyes Keith often found himself lost in for hours at a time – were covered with a sheen of water that made them shimmer. Keith barely heard him when he spoke next. The voice was quiet and broken, as he softly asked:

“So I’m not the father?”

Keith dropped his shoulders; he lifted his hand to his chest, as he rubbed at his ribs in an attempt to somehow still his heart. The desert grew deathly cold, even despite the heavy sweat that broke under his arms and around his back, and – as his mouth ran dry – he struggled to find words to comfort his partner. He knew that Shiro often touched people when they were upset, while Hunk would tell jokes and share stories, but somehow both those options felt wrong to him. Keith struggled to know how to react.

He took a few steps towards Lance, who continued to stare at the ground. Keith bit at his lip, as he reached out to touch upon his partner’s shoulder, only for Lance to visibly flinch and tense beneath an otherwise warm touch. The other man sniffed and wiped at his eyes with the back of his sleeve, before he sat back and looked up to Keith with red cheeks and swollen lips. It was difficult to bear. Keith felt dizzy and swallowed hard.

“I didn’t cheat on you,” whispered Keith.

“You slept with someone,” said Lance in a cold voice.

“Yeah, I did, but it was before we started dating.” Keith pulled back his hand with a sigh. “I didn’t find out you liked me until a few weeks later, when – you know – you _finally_ asked me out on a date. I thought you were straight. You did a damned good job at hiding how much you liked me, I just thought we were rivals at worst and friends at best.”

“I thought we dealt with that! I just wasn’t comfortable flirting with guys, because – in case you haven’t noticed – homophobia is still an actual thing! I had trouble enough fitting into the Garrison as it stood, let alone with coming out as bisexual.” Lance looked straight at him with actual tears in his eyes. “I didn’t think they’d take me back at the Garrison. I definitely didn’t think I’d fall for you, but I did and here we are and now you’re -!”

“I know. Lance, I’m not saying it was your fault. I’m not even trying to force you to out yourself at the Garrison or anything like that. I’m just saying we _weren’t_ a couple. I – I don’t know what to say, except what happened was my first and only time, so . . .”

“So why them and not me? Not that I’m there yet, but . . . you know.”

“Maybe because this _means_ something to me.”

Keith sat down on the floorboard. The dirt and dust clung to his clothes, providing a brown sheen to otherwise clean material, and he found himself looking up into those eyes that looked down, so that they were finally on a similar level. Lance gave a strange smile, which quirked the corner of his lips upward. There were tear-tracks down his cheeks. Keith looked to Lance and realised – despite his constant flirting, as well as incessant come-ons – he was perhaps one of the most insecure members of the group. Keith said in a gentle voice:

“I want our first time to mean something.”

There was a strange noise from Lance, something between a huff and a laugh, and – as he began to force a smile – Keith smiled in turn. It was forced, but it expressed a deeper sense of affection that words couldn’t bring. Keith raised one leg and folded the other, as he rested his arm upon a knee, and he waited patiently for his boyfriend to break the silence. Lance swallowed audibly and heaved a long sigh, before he asked:

“So that guy meant nothing?”

“‘That guy’ is complicated,” admitted Keith. “I just – I just don’t want you to hate me, because I slept with someone else before we were an item. It’s not something I wanted, and if I could take it back then I would, but . . . what’s done is done. I’m – I’m sorry.”

“Hey, I don’t hate you! I mean you’ve always supported me, right?” Lance shrugged and furrowed his brow. “I think we could still make it work? I guess? I – hey – wait . . . you – you said it wasn’t something you wanted? Did – Did someone _hurt_ you?” Two hands clenched into two fists. “You just give me a name and I’ll make them pay. I swear.”

Keith struggled to hold back a laugh. He pulled himself up onto his knees, so he could look his partner directly in the eyes and be on his same level. Lance looked back with eyes almost as red as his cheeks, but with lips pursed into a white line and knuckles turned just as white in turn, and Keith knew this was a man on the brink of pure rage. The usually beautiful skin, dark from his mixed heritage, was now marred with that same rage, so that Keith knew he would need to be careful when revealing a name. He forced a strong smile.

“It was consensual,” said Keith. “Mostly.”

“How can it _mostly_ be consensual?”

“I was in a really bad way.” Keith looked away, as his smile faded. “I hurt myself. I was expecting the whole Galra thing to be the end of the world, you know? Hunk still keeps waiting to see if my skin colour will change, while Allura only _just_ came around and apologised to me, and – and I . . . I panicked. I freaked out. I hated everything that I thought I would become, so I was just spending my time crying and hurting. I hated myself.

“He came around to check on me . . . I didn’t want to sleep with him, but I was just so scared. Not of him, but just of _losing_ him. I don’t think he realised. I kept letting him touch me, never even said ‘no’ or tried to push him away, but I kept thinking that at least I wasn’t alone. I just wanted to feel like I belonged somewhere, like someone wanted me for _me_ . . .

“It wasn’t bad, but it just wasn’t good. I didn’t really want it; I just didn’t want someone else to leave me, and I just wanted to feel _something_ , like some kind of validation . . . I spent the whole time just staring at the ceiling, trying to work out what I was feeling, and when it was over then it was over. I just felt . . . _dirty_. It was more like a workout or getting a massage, you know? Except, I was supposed to enjoy it and I didn’t . . . I just didn’t.”

It was the most Keith had spoken in a long time. He raised a hand to his throat; he rubbed at the skin with a rough touch, as he looked away from Lance and felt his lip tremble. There was a strange silence in the air. Keith took in a staggered and broken breath, while he stood up and moved to the front door of the shack. He heard his heart race in his breast, afraid that – should he turn around – Lance may no longer be there, and the television inside provided a small comfort as the music began to play with great familiarity.

Lance was soon on his feet, as he stumbled in his attempt to run to Keith. The front door was barely opened, when two arms were thrown around his waist and a head buried itself into the crook of his neck, and brown hair tickled at his nose. Lance hugged him from his front. Keith stood with arms hanging awkwardly in the air, as he blinked away his surprise and absolute relief. Lance still cried, as tears wet pale skin, and when he spoke it was in a soft voice.

“Who was it?” Lance asked. “Do I know them?”

Keith lowered his arms with a smile. He let his arms fall upon those wiry shoulders, as his hands brushed against Lance’s upper back, and he wondered what his first time would have been like with a body and soul that he both admired and loved. The sheets would have been scented with that awful facial lotion and leave-in conditioner, not saturated with the stench of sweat and cologne, and maybe the following morning would have featured cuddles in bed and not a walk-of-shame to the shower. Keith realised he had began to cry. He flushed red.

“Shiro,” admitted Keith. “It was Shiro.”

The arms around his waist tightened their hold. Lance nuzzled against him all the more; there was a heavy breath from the other man, who seemed to use Keith like a lifeline, and Keith – unsure how to respond – awkwardly patted his boyfriend’s back. There was a sigh from Lance, who pulled back with a frown upon his face. It was difficult to interpret. Keith simply gave a shrug, as Lance rolled his eyes and pointed to the door. Lance muttered:

“I guess we go inside and talk?”

“Yeah, I guess we do,” said Keith.

They paused by the open door, until Lance wandered inside with back hunched. He kept his hands within his pockets, while his head was low and lips pursed, and Keith – as he watched with a nervous expression – ran his hand over his face and followed. The door closed with a soft click, before Keith locked it out of old habit. There was a time where the door remained perpetually open, due to its remote location, until Shiro lectured him upon safety.

The memory of his closest friend brought a wince to his face. Lance took a seat upon a nearby armchair, which gave a rustle of noise as the sheet moved that covered it, and Keith – as he pulled over a stool from the side of the room – sat opposite and rested his hands between his legs, as they clasped upon the edge of the stool. There was a long moment of silence, while even the television seemed to remain on low, and Keith listened to his racing heart until Lance broke the quiet with a simple and profound question.

“So, does Shiro know?”

“Only Coran and Sendak know,” admitted Keith. “I wanted to tell you first. I wasn’t sure if you’d leave me, because this is a lot to take on board. I figured I’d get your opinion before telling Shiro, especially as I was thinking about giving the baby away, because what if you wanted to raise it together or something? I’m . . . confused. I’m confused, Lance.”

“Okay, well, do you _want_ to raise the baby together? Like, I’m all for that, if you do . . . just, I kind of also don’t want a baby right now? It’s way too soon! I’m not going to abandon you, because I know how important family is, but if I’ve got any choice -? I’d rather not.”

“So we’re on the same page . . . you don’t want a baby either?”

“I want one _one day_ , but not _now_ , no.”

Keith smiled despite himself. He threw back his head and looked up to the ceiling, where he saw the various marks and stains and realised he now knew the number by heart, and – as he looked away – he let a hand fall to his stomach. The idea of having a family to call his own was a strong temptation, but a child torn between two families was less than his ideal. He wanted a child of his own, not one shared between two households. Keith chewed the inside of his cheek; the shack was cold inside, as the wind picked up speed and howled outside.

“So,” Keith asked, “you wouldn’t resent me for giving them away?”

Lance scratched at the back of his neck; the way he tilted his head revealed some uncertainty, especially with the way he pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. The question was one that required some consideration. Keith felt his heart race more and more, as the heavy sweat returned, and soon he clutched the stool until his fingers grew sore. It wouldn’t be long until night fell, and already Keith began to fear being left alone once more.

“No,” said Lance, “but are you sure that’s what you want?”

“A thousand percent sure,” said Keith.

“Okay, but just think about it for a while?” Lance bit his lip and shook his head. “You could still change your mind, right? Plus, you could get joint custody with Shiro. I mean, if you wanted or whatever. You have your work as a mechanic, he works as a teacher –”

“No. No, I can’t tell him.” Keith ran his hand through his hair. “He’s with Allura, Lance! What if this breaks them up? What if they don’t want the baby either? I – I also don’t want to lose Shiro as a friend . . . he’s like a brother to me, someone that I’ve always respected, and you don’t know much I blamed myself when my father left. If Shiro leaves me, too, I don’t know what I’d do. It’s not as though he has to know, anyway.”

“I think he might notice at nine-months when the baby kicks! Seriously, you get actual _handprints_ against your skin sometimes. It’s freaky! Plus, he has a right to know. We don’t get to be selfish about this, because the baby has to be the priority, right? Well, the baby has a right to be with its pops, assuming Shiro wants them . . . got to give him that choice.”

“Okay, so what if Shiro and Allura say ‘no’?” Keith asked with a broken voice. “What if Shiro turns his back on the baby? What if I have to give the baby up for adoption? I know what it’s like to be abandoned, and I don’t want that for them. I don’t.”

“I – I don’t know, Keith. I don’t know! It’s . . . complicated.”

“My life always seems fucking complicated.”

Lance stood up and arched his back. It was a stretch that resulted in a groan, as two hands met in the crook of his back to apply pressure, and soon his arms were in the air to make strange shapes that reminded Keith of when swimmers did pre-race warm-ups. Lance eventually fisted his hand and gave a wink, as if he were giving a pep-talk before a mock mission on campus, and Keith heaved a long exhale of breath in disbelief.

“Why don’t we talk to Pidge?”

“What?” Keith asked.

“Pidge. You know?” Lance shrugged. “I’ll crash the night here. We can make hot cocoa and talk about this some more, but I’m just saying that Pidge is _great_ with problem solving! Plus, maybe she’ll convince me not to punch Shiro. I can’t believe he took advantage. I know you’re the favourite and all, but –!” Lance paused with a frown. “Are you laughing at me?”

“I’m sorry, but I forget sometimes that the famous sharpshooter of the Paladins can be so – well – _Lance_ -like. I never thought I’d have friends, so it’s kind of weird, but it’s nice to know that my boyfriend can be my best friend. I just – I just hate this situation. I hate it.”

“Aw, the baby is making you sentimental already!”

Keith frowned and leaned forward just enough to land a kick. It was more playful in nature, although something Pidge and Hunk warned him often was inappropriate from a boyfriend, and it barely sent Lance back by a step or two. The other man spat out his tongue, which sent a spark of anger through Keith, as he stood up and clenched his hands into tight fists, and – as Lance’s eyes glanced down to see the expression of anger – Lance finally stopped teasing and gave a wide smile. He slapped a hand on Keith’s shoulder.

“I’m joking! I’m joking,” laughed Lance.

“Yeah, well, I’m not in the mood for jokes.” Keith gave a long exhale of breath. “Do you really think Pidge will have any better advice? We’ve only been dating a few months, Lance, but this is something so major. What if we don’t last? This could end us.”

“Nah, if I can go up against Zarkon, I can totally do this.”

“I sometimes forget you were a hero.”

Lance stepped back to give a ‘superhero pose’; it brought a smile to Keith’s lips, as he rolled his eyes and walked past his boyfriend to head inside the kitchen. The pre-natal vitamins sat prominently by the kitchen sink, next to the ultrasound picture taped to the wall behind, and he paused on sight of them. He quickly grabbed a large glass from the sink, still murky from the soya milk, and placed it in front of the baby items. Keith jumped when Lance came behind him and wrapped two arms around his waist. The embrace felt nice.

“I can still be your hero, baby,” teased Lance.

It was difficult not to laugh. Keith leaned his head back to rest on Lance’s shoulder, as his boyfriend placed chaste kisses to the skin and hummed some strange song, and – as they stood together and looked out the window – Keith felt one hand run down to press lightly upon his stomach. They stayed locked together for a long time, until Keith pulled away with a long sigh and turned to kiss his boyfriend upon the lips.

“Thank you,” said Keith.


	4. Chapter 4

“N-No way! You’re kidding, right?”

Pidge leaned forward in her chair. Those small hands were pressed firmly to small knees, while her glasses slid an inch down her nose to reveal wide eyes, and – should she move forward any further – Keith was sure she would fall from her seat. Hunk and Shay sat upon the sofa just to the left of the armchair, each with an equally open mouth and eyes that fixated entirely upon Keith with absolute determination. He breathed heavily through his nose.

The castle was situated not far from the Garrison; it was exactly how the others remembered, so they often told him, and he remembered the many energetic tours conducted by Pidge or Coran or even sometimes Lance. He saw the laboratories, which Pidge still commandeered for herself, and he knew some of the historical tales by heart, which Coran recited with a passion that spoke of a man desperate to connect to another, perhaps simply desperate to not let his culture die unremembered by at least one soul. It was a place filled with life.

There was only one downside: everyone congregated together.

Keith was forced to send a dark glare in Pidge’s direction, as he shot his gaze to Shiro for one brief second that he hoped conveyed more than words. The older man stood at the far end of the hall. It was a ‘lounge’ that put all lounges to shame, but – even out of earshot and barely in eyesight – Keith could tell that Shiro was looking over their way. He stood with Allura, Coran and Lance. All four seemed vaguely curious by how loud Pidge shouted, with all four sets of eyes aimed straight at their small group, and Hunk waved awkwardly over to them.

“We’re all good,” called Hunk. “Get back to – er – whatever? It’s cool!”

There was a strange look from Coran and Lance. The former gave an almost frown, as his expression softened and he looked away, where he stared at some empty spot just beyond the counter around which the four of them stood. Lance simply narrowed his eyes and then widened them, giving an almost imperceptible gesture that said ‘I know’ and ‘I’m here’, before he forced a wide smile and animatedly began to talk to Shiro. It was a blatant distraction, but one the white-haired man seemed to buy. There followed laughter.

Hunk slumped backward, as he ran a hand over his face. There was a sympathetic smile from Shay, who – with a touch to his shoulder – said that she would give them space, and soon she was out of sight and out of the room. Pidge still leaned forward. It was as if she barely noticed Shay’s departure, as her eyes were locked upon Keith’s stomach and her hand came up to scratch at her chin like a cartoon character. He rolled his eyes, as he folded his arms.

“I’m just at four months,” he admitted. “I’m barely showing.”

“So you’re actually pregnant?” Pidge asked.

“Yes, I’m actually pregnant. Just keep your voice _down_ , okay? I haven’t told Shiro; I’m planning on telling him right after you guys, but I just wanted your thoughts first. To be honest, I’m still in two minds about telling him anything. I’m . . . worried.”

Keith sighed and threw back his head. The ceilings were high and impressive, while the technology that the castle exhibited made him wonder why the government or military hadn’t commandeered the castle or even its inhabitants. He figured they respected the Voltron Alliance too much to wage war on the very princess who stood as its spokesperson and ambassador. There followed a strange silence. It interrupted him from his thoughts.

He looked between Pidge and Hunk, as he crossed his legs and pursed his lips. They were both staring at him much like when he first told them about his Galra blood, with wide eyes and rather stiff body positions, and he quirked his head to the side to see Hunk do the same. It was very much a game of ‘monkey see, monkey do’, as Hunk copied every gesture and movement with an expression of total incomprehension. Just as Keith was beginning to grow too annoyed to endure much more, Hunk asked in a high-pitched and confused voice:

“So you’re like _pregnant_ ‘pregnant’?”

“For the last time -! Yes!”

Keith flinched at the volume. He flushed red, having not meant to react in such a strong manner, before he looked with some fear across the room. Lance stood with arms folded high on his chest and eyes narrowed into a glare, while Shiro scratched at the back of his neck and looked like he debated whether to wander over or not, but – as they turned away once more – Keith heaved a sigh of relief and looked back to his friends. Pidge asked in a firm tone:

“Okay, well, why wouldn’t you tell Shiro?”

“You’ve seen him with Allura,” muttered Keith. “I’ve never seen him so happy; he’s found someone that understands about his post-traumatic stress disorder, as well as someone that knows all about what it’s like to suffer under the Galra, and he understands about Allura and her situation in turn. They look comfortable together. They look _happy_.”

“So what?” Hunk asked. “You think a baby will make them _unhappy_? I mean, it’s not ideal or whatever, but I think Shiro always wanted a kid. Plus, you guys did – like – hook up _before_ they got together as a couple? She can hardly be peeved at that, right?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t exactly want to test the theory.” Keith ran a hand through black hair. “I don’t plan on keeping the kid; that means Shiro will have to take full custody, if he decides he wants to be a part of their life. I’m already trying to find someone willing to adopt, just in case he doesn’t want to take them, but it’s pretty rough. Pidge comes from a pretty cool family, while Lance has more relatives than I can count, so . . . yeah.”

Pidge sat back and rested one ankle upon her knee. There was an arm across the back of the sofa, as her free hand rubbed over her chin in thought, and soon she looked at him with a raised eyebrow and pursed set of lips. It was the first time mentioning adoption aloud. Lance had been supportive of the idea during their nights together, even mentioning a few relatives who were great with kids that would be willing to adopt a new addition, but he could practically feel the judgement radiating off his friends in waves. He looked away.

“To be honest,” said Pidge, “you’re best asking Shiro before making plans.”

Keith chance a glance over to Shiro; the older man rested a hand upon Allura’s shoulder, who – with a gentle touch in turn – held onto his hand with a warm smile. The two were close in each other’s personal space, while Coran and Lance engaged in an over-the-top discussion that included great theatrics and gestures, and it served as a reminder of how comfortable they all were in their current situations. A child would change everything. Keith sighed, as he turned back to Pidge and asked in a quiet whisper:

“You think he’ll really want the kid?”

“I think he deserves the chance to make that choice,” replied Pidge.

“Pidge is right.” Hunk smiled and said warmly: “Shiro’s a good guy. He totally messed up having a one-night-stand with you, but I guess that’s why you always wear a condom, huh? I would have thought that was Galra Sex Ed 101. Still, what’s done is done, am I right?”

“I think what Hunk is _trying_ to say is that it’s better to tell Shiro soon. If you keep putting it off and putting it off, it’ll just become this major thing and you’ll totally end up worrying way more than you should. You’ll just keep it secret. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? If Shiro doesn’t want to be a dad, you just look into adoption like you planned. Best case, your kid gets a dad and you get to go live your life. May as well tell him.”

“I know, I know!” Keith ran a hand over his face. “It’s just that it’s not about him any longer, is it? It’s about _them_. Allura has only just started to come around, like she’s finally seeing me as a person first and a Galra second, so how do you think she’ll react when she finds out that I slept with her boyfriend? I’m not a Paladin like you guys. I’m . . . replaceable.”

“Are you kidding? You’re Keith!” Pidge chirped with a smile. “You know Lance was totally jealous of you at the Garrison, right? Shiro never stopped talking about you, either. Heck, I don’t think you could do anything wrong in their eyes. Don’t worry.”

“Well, worry a little,” muttered Hunk. “Look who’s coming over.”

Keith looked across the room. There was an awkward silence between them, as Shiro began to walk across and gave a small wave of acknowledgement. He was dressed in his instructors uniform, which suited him way and brought back memories of their time in the Garrison, and the smile on his lips made him appear younger than his years. The white streak in his hair was messy and longer than previous, while the way Allura and Lance followed made Keith’s heart begin to race, as he grew nervous and took in a staggered breath.

He noticed that Coran slipped out into the corridor, likely heading to find Shay. Shiro stopped next to the sofa, where he half-leaned with his organic hand upon the back, and he smiled down at Keith in a way that would have made a lesser man blush. It was a confidence easy to admire. Allura and Lance took a seat on the other sofa on either side of Hunk, who gave a nervous cough, as Shiro asked in a deep and smooth voice:

“Lance said you wanted to speak to me?”

Hunk gave a loud and theatrical yawn. He stood up with a stretch and then gently nudged Pidge with his foot, who looked up at him with a furrow of her brow, and – as he nudged her again, this time a little more firmly – she seemed to get the hint and stood in turn. The two of them walked slowly past Shiro and into the main part of the room. Pidge was already mostly to the door when Hunk turned and waved with a large smile, hand held in a v-sign as if there were nothing to worry about in the least. He called out kindly:

“See you around, buddy.”

It was odd when Hunk finally left, as the silence was beyond awkward. Keith heard clearly when Lance climbed up to shift over onto his sofa, sitting on his left side with an almost possessive glance to Shiro that bordered on a pout, and Allura – with gentle grace – moved into Pidge’s spot on the armchair opposite. The intimacy between Allura and Shiro was made clear by how he sat on the arm of the chair with legs astride, arm draped behind her.

“Okay,” said Shiro. “So . . . what’s this about?”

“Well, I need to tell you something pretty important.” Keith chanced a glance to Lance, who smiled at him and nodded over in Shiro’s direction. “It’s – ah – kind of complicated. I just don’t want either of you to hate me . . . I – I don’t know how much Allura knows, but everything that happened was before you two started dating. So . . . yeah.”

“Keith, you’re not making much sense. I swore to you that I’d always be there for you, so you have to trust me on that and know that nothing you say will make me stop caring about you. You’re my friend first and foremost. You’re like a brother even.”

“So you wouldn’t hate me even if I had bad news?”

“Nothing could ever be that bad, Keith.”

Shiro looked upon him with a sincere smile. The way his mouth crinkled at the corners, along with the way his eyes softened and focussed upon him, spoke of a great deal of affection that reminded Keith of time spent together throughout the years. He missed their friendship. The year that Shiro spent in captivity was a long year indeed, while his time spent with the Paladins felt like it would stretch into eternity, and Keith simply wanted back those years lost. He swallowed hard and looked down. He knew to confess would risk everything.

“Okay, well, I’m pregnant,” muttered Keith.

There was a loud cry from Allura; it caught Keith’s full attention, as his heart began to race and his eyes widened, and he instinctively brought a hand to his stomach. He was surprised by what he saw in her expression: joy. The young woman leaned forward with an open-mouthed smile and hands clenched into excited fists, and he could see the blush to her black cheeks and the sparkle to her eyes. Keith pulled back, unsure how to react.

“Oh, that’s wonderful news!” Allura chirped.

“Huh? It is?” Lance asked.

“Of course!” Allura clapped her hands together. “You two will have such a beautiful child, I am sure! I simply hope they inherit Lance’s confidence and Keith’s patience, as then they will truly be the best of both of you. Oh, there’s so much to get ready! Do you have a place to raise the child? I have never decorated a nursery before, but I would –”

“It’s – It’s not my kid!” Lance blushed and waved his hands in a rapid motion, so that they appeared almost like a blur in the air. “Keith and I are – er – you know . . . waiting . . . want it to be special and – and – and _anyway_ . . . it’s – ah – Shiro’s baby. Not mine. Shiro’s.”

“Oh, come now! You surely jest, as there is no way that –”

“He’s telling the truth,” said Keith. “It’s Shiro’s.”

There was an instant change. Allura’s hands fell onto her lap, where they rustled the fabric of her dress, and her head pulled back with a deep frown. The expression marred her features; those eyes narrowed like the first time she heard he was Galra, while her mouth purses into a pale line, and she turned her head to gaze upon her partner. It was telling how she pulled her body to the side, so that she was leaning away from him and no longer into him.

Shiro’s face paled and his eyes widened. He made no attempt to move away from – or even closer to – either Allura or Keith, but simply sat upon the arm of the chair in total silence, as he blinked rapidly and flexed the fingers of his cybernetic hand. There was a slight shift from Lance, who edged closer to Keith and gently placed his hand in the gap between them, and Keith swallowed hard his fear and reached down to take that same hand. It provided a small comfort, even as he looked away from them all out of fear of the display of intimacy.

“Are you sure?” Allura asked in a low voice: “It is okay not to be sure.”

It felt like an insult; Keith flinched and held tight upon Lance’s hand, as he glared at the princess and drew in a deep breath to centre himself. The memories of that night flooded his mind. There was a temptation to mention the parallel scars across Shiro’s buttocks, or the two moles adjacent to one another on his lower back, or even how his cock bent slightly to the right, uncut and impressive in size, but he knew such ‘proof’ would only be received as ‘taunts’. He tried to control his breathing, even as he broke into a cold sweat.

“I’ve not been with anyone else,” said Keith.

There was an almost imperceptible wince from Allura. He kept eye contact with her for the longest minute of his life, while Shiro remained silent from beside him, and – as time slowly passed between them – they both broke the staring contest at the same time. There was a loud huff of breath from them both, which seemed to break Shiro from his trance. He gave a slight jolt, as he looked rapidly between the rest of the room’s occupants and asked:

“What about Lance?”

“It’s not Lance’s kid,” replied Keith in a cold voice. “We decided to wait before we slept together, not that it’s any of your business. Look, if you don’t believe me then fine! I think they can do paternity tests even while it’s in the womb, so – yeah – I can prove it.”

“I think I would be more comfortable with such a test,” said Allura. “I am aware of your . . . hmm . . . _liaison_ with my life-partner, but I am still somewhat sceptical of your claims that he is the parent of your child. It is not that I think you would lie, but perhaps you are mistaken and Lance is the father. If your sexual education was lacking, it is easy to make such an error in understanding and believe he could not be the parent in question.”

“Okay, _fine_ , if you need proof then you’ll get proof.” Keith clenched his free hand. “Look, it’s not as though I want anything; I’m not trying to split you up and I’m not planning on keeping this kid to want any child support. I’m only telling you because the others think that Shiro should have a chance to raise his own child, before I give them up for adoption.”

“You – You wish to give the child away? But . . . why? I understand that you are still young, but you are legally an adult by your people’s standards, yes? We may have had our disagreements in our brief acquaintanceship, but I believe you would be a good father.”

“That’s the thing, I don’t _want_ to be a father. Not yet.”

The silence that followed was awkward. Lance squeezed his hand, just enough for him to turn his head and see a supportive smile, and – as he dropped his head against the back of the sofa – he looked up at the ceiling with a long sigh. There was a short pause in the conversation, before Shiro slid forward on the arm of the chair. He rested his forearms upon his knees. It was a casual yet open position, as he opened his hands and spread his fingers, and he kept his eyes locked upon Keith with a strong focus. Shiro spoke with a soft voice.

“What about joint custody?” Shiro suggested.

Keith gave a groan of frustration, as he ran a hand over his face. It took all his energy to fall forward and look Shiro in the eyes. Lance kept a hold on his hand, although the touch was firmer and held despite Keith’s attempts to break free, and he realised that his boyfriend was acting as an anchor and keeping him from storming away. The air in the lounge felt somewhat warm, enough that Keith had to pull at his shirt to keep it from clinging to him.

“Shiro, I honestly don’t want this baby.”

“You’ll feel differently once it’s born,” said Shiro.

“No, I -!” Keith clenched his fist and gave a hiss of breath. “I’m not a child and I _know_ what I want and I _know_ how I feel! If I have a child in the future, I want it to be with someone that I love and someone I’ll spend my life with. I don’t want to have to share a child! I don’t want my kid to be part of some warped time-share. I just don’t.”

“So what if you get primary custody? I can just get visitation or every other weekend. You’d be their main guardian. Keith, I’m not going to take your child away from you, but I do want to support you and to also support them. I want to be in their life.”

“You can be in their life, just without me. It’s – It’s not just about custody, but just that the timing is all wrong. I want time to work on my business, see how things go with Lance, and – well – a kid would just tie me down . . . I want to live my life, not pause it to start another. I wanted to visit Cuba with Lance, spend time with his family, or maybe start a family some years from now, like in my twenties. I don’t want this child, Shiro. I just don’t.”

Shiro looked downward with down-turned lips. The open hands fell between his legs, while his eyes became half-lidded and a sheen swept over them, and Keith bit his lip on realising the sheer disappointment that coursed through Shiro. It made him realise one thing: Shiro valued family over anything. He had no doubt that Shiro would have left Allura for him, solely out of obligation alone, should Keith had asked that of him in his current state. It was a realisation that made him sick to his stomach. Keith asked in a cool voice:

“Does that make me a bad person?”

He knew he could never love the child as much as Shiro. Shiro would have been willing to give up the love of his life to be with them, whereas Keith was willing to give them up just to maintain his independence. It came as a surprise to feel Allura’s hand upon his knee; the young woman reached out and squeezed with a light touch, just enough to provide some reassurance and it caused him to smile despite himself. Allura whispered to him:

“No, parenthood is not for everyone.”

“Tell that _to_ everyone,” muttered Keith. “Everyone acts as if I’ll have this magic bond with the kid, or that something’s wrong with me for not having this ‘maternal instinct’, but all I want is just to be with Lance and work as a mechanic. It’s . . . starting to weigh me down. I keep second-guessing myself or feeling that I’m some sort of freak.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Keith,” swore Allura. “I so think we all need some time apart, though, just to think about this properly. Shiro appears to be in shock. Lance looks like he wants to whisk you away and keep you safe. I – I do not know how I feel.”

“That’s fine. I guess a child is a big deal to agree to.”

“It will certainly require time to discuss.”

They sat in silence, as Keith took the time to process his emotions. A part of him wondered how other parents could feel an instant bond with their child, while he only saw them as a collection of cells transforming from a foetus into a potential burden. He squeezed Lance’s hand, which squeezed back, and looked to Shiro for some form of answer. The older man stared intently upon Keith’s stomach, as if he could somehow see the life inside.

“Do you want them?” Keith asked.

Shiro gave a small jump. His eyes moved from stomach to face, as he looked to Keith with a furrowed brow and pursed lips, and – as the question seemed to finally register – his expression softened and he gave a large smile. There was a twitch from his organic hand; it moved toward Keith, in the general direction of his stomach, but soon pulled back into a fist that spoke of great restraint. Shiro looked away with a wince, before he let his eyes fall back upon the father of his child. There were clear tears. He smiled.

“I love them already,” admitted Shiro.

“I guess that answers that,” muttered Lance. “Still, this won’t break you guys up, will it? Keith was totally freaked that you’d break up and it’d all be his fault. I mean Allura seems like she’d be a totally awesome step-mom, right? I just wondered . . . that’s all.”

“A child is a large commitment.” Allura gave a sigh. “I cannot say as of yet.”

“I think that’s fine,” replied Keith. “I get it, honestly.”

Keith stood up and felt all eyes upon his stomach. The material of his shirt was already stretched, enough that soon a new wardrobe would be necessary, and he rested a hand upon the round bump with a firm open palm. The child could prove a blessing for Shiro, the greatest gift that Keith could ever bestow, but he already felt pangs of resentment – as his hand clenched and nails drove into his palms – that he would have to suffer to give them life.

Lance stood a second later; he stretched enough to arc his back, as he yawned wide enough to make a sound that was irksome and loud. He draped an arm around Keith, even as the other man turned to give him a stern look and folded his arms, and – insisting on providing some comfort to Keith whether Keith wanted it or not – smiled warmly over to Shiro and Allura with a large grin. It earned a smile from Keith in turn, as he looked away to hide the fact he was amused by his boyfriend’s warm personality. They knew it was time to leave.

“We’ll just give you guys some time to talk,” said Lance.

Shiro and Allura simply nodded in response.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

“Hey, you up for visitors?”

Keith blinked away the sleep from his eyes. He raised a hand to wipe at his face, as he tried to orientate himself to his surroundings, but the room remained dark and his vision refused to focus in any way that helped. The bedroom felt rather cold; the windows were thrown wide open, which let in the desert air with large draughts, but it was necessary to air out the smell of blood and sweat that lingered. There was a bustle of noise from below.

He struggled to sit upright, until two warm hands helped him. There were several pillows behind his back, so fluffy and large that he was sure someone else had brought them, and even the quilted blanket over his legs was one that didn’t belong to him. The bedroom – now he looked with fast blinking eyes – could have belonged to someone else. He saw flowers all across the windowsill to the upper window of the shack. The view beyond was far from impressive, overlooking the shed and the flier. It also looked dark outside.

Finally, Keith noticed Lance beside him.

The other man sat upon the edge of the bed, where it dipped under his weight. He was dressed in an old t-shirt, with jeans rather low on his waist, and his face – pale and sunken – spoke of his abject exhaustion. There were bags under Lance’s eyes, while his hand looked a little bruised and held crescent shaped cuts upon its side, and his hair was mussed from an apparent lack of sleep. Keith noticed that his cheek had pillow marks etched into the skin. It brought a frown to Keith’s face, as he furrowed his brow and rubbed at his face.

“How long have I been asleep?” Keith asked.

“Twelve hours, give or take.”

Keith felt his stomach churn with a loud noise. He blushed to realise his hunger, as he moved his hand to his stomach and felt only the warm blankets upon his skin. It was a strange sensation; he pursed his lips and looked down at his body, where he realised that he was clad only in an old shirt that once belonged to Lance, while his lower body – from a brief raise of the blankets – looked completely nude. There were old sheets and towels underneath his lower half, some looking quite matted and stained with blood.

He dropped the blankets back down, as he looked around for some water. There was a pitcher upon the bedside table, along with a bowl of half-melted chunks of ice, and – as he reached out to take the pitcher in hand – Lance jumped up and poured him a glass. Keith almost snatched it from his boyfriend, as he downed the contents and slammed the glass back down with a large sigh of relief. The breeze through the window kept Keith alert, as he found himself now wide-awake and extremely uncomfortable. There was an ache in his stomach.

“You’re kidding? Twelve hours?”

“The doctor said that’s normal,” chirped Lance. “You were lucky, too, no stitches or anything! I – er – asked a bunch of questions for you, because you were kind of really out of it, but apparently the bleeding’s normal and not to worry. I totally freaked out when I changed you! I thought you were like haemorrhaging or something.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, he warned me about that.” Keith gave a small smile. “It’s up to six weeks, so we aren’t supposed to have sex until it completely stops. I didn’t think it worth mentioning, because it’s not like _someone_ was willing to have sex anyway.”

“That wasn’t my fault.” Lance folded his arms. “You – You had a _child_ in there! I didn’t want to be – well – you know . . . kind of . . . _in_ there while they were still swimming around, because what if I gave them a concussion or something? Plus, they’d have hand way near the end. I didn’t want them reaching down and tearing something off. Yuck! Plus, what if I . . . ah . . . _came_ , you know? Isn’t that -?” Lance paused with a pout. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Not _at_ you,” teased Keith. “More like _with_ you.”

“Do I look like I’m laughing?”

Lance wore the beginnings of a smile, which twitched every now and again. It was clear he strove to hold back a bright smile and laughter, which in turn brought peals of laughter from Keith, and – as his stomach muscles clenched with movement – he hissed and arched his back with a spark of pain. It felt like a sharp burning sensation, only something that came and went in waves, and it reminded him of the exact reason behind such earlier agony. Keith rubbed a hand at his eyes, as he fidgeted where he lay and asked:

“Where is the baby, anyway?”

There was a warm smile from Lance. He got up and walked around the bed, until he came to the opposite side, usually where Lance slept when he stayed over. Keith noticed him stand beside what looked like a cot; it was low, about on the exact level of the bed itself, and – with all the blankets and blurred vision – he struggled to see it in his peripheral vision. Lance did something to the side of the cot, which opened the side, and pushed it against the bed. It looked like a way for a parent to co-sleep without having the child in bed with them.

“Just here,” whispered Lance.

The baby looked healthy enough; there was a shock of black hair, while – as it opened its eyes for a brief second – there were dark grey eyes the same colour as Shiro’s, and its angular face also looked very much like its other father. It was an uncanny resemblance. Keith gave a grunt of bored acknowledgement, as he turned away to get better comfortable in bed. The sheets and towels beneath him were damp, while his body was coated in sweat. Keith asked:

“And we have guests?”

“Well, _you_ have guests,” replied Lance. “Shiro wanted to be here during the labour, but the doctor agreed that it was probably a bad idea. He’s been calling every half-an-hour since, and you were finally looking a bit better and starting to wake up, so I figured it’d be as good as time as any for them to come visit and get the baby. Er, if you still want that, that is?”

“Yeah, I haven’t changed my mind.” Keith rolled his shoulders, as he attempted to fight away the urge to sleep. “The paperwork’s all signed, anyway, so it’s theirs. I’m more than happy playing uncle; especially right now when all I want is to sleep, I feel like hell.”

“Okay, so, do you want me to send them up?”

“Yeah, you may as well.”

Lance leaned down to place a kiss on the baby’s forehead. There was a small gurgle; the sound caused Keith to wince and ball his hands into fists, too tired to abide any noise or distractions, and he wondered how he managed to sleep through the cries. Lance looked almost a natural with children, as he pulled away with his smile fading into something a little more morose, as he came around to place a chaste kiss to Keith’s lips in turn.

He soon left for downstairs, where Keith caught the sound of various voices. It was like nails upon a chalkboard. Keith reached a hand up to massage his temple, until he caught another gurgle from the baby, and he turned his head to look upon them. The baby was cute from what Keith could tell; it had incredibly rosy cheeks that were puffed out, almost chubby considering they only ate what Keith ate until the previous day. He was also surprised by their size. They looked so small that he could almost hold them in one hand.

The bedroom door soon opened with a slow creak.

Shiro was the first to appear; he stood in his usual black clothing, as he bore a bright smile and looked to Keith with absolute respect, and then – as his head turned just slightly to the right – he caught sight of the baby. The change was instantaneous. There was a wide smile that revealed his canine teeth, along with wide eyes that shimmered with water, and he raised a shaking hand to his lips that hovered just an inch from his face. Keith watched the tears fall, as Shiro walked slowly over to the cot. He looked oblivious to all else.

“Ah, so there’s my little boy,” chirped Shiro.

He reached down to take the baby in his hands. Long fingers supported the neck, while avoiding the soft spot of his head, and he clasped the child against his chest with a strong paternal instinct. Keith vaguely remembered being told how to hold them, as the doctor finally delivered them and offered them to him. He had refused. The sight of a small creature covered in bodily fluids, howling like a banshee, made him feel nothing except disgust.

Shiro cried as he whispered to his child; the words sounded like his native tongue, perhaps some prayer or song recited to him as an infant, and – as the child gurgled – Shiro sat on the side of the bed with his body angled to face Keith. Those eyes remained locked on the child. Keith gave a huff of frustration, until he saw Allura and Lance enter the room. Lance stayed by the door with hands shoved into his pockets, as he gave a nervous smile across the room, while Allura carried a large decorative chest in her hands. The box was placed beside him.

“We got you a little something to say ‘thank you’,” said Allura.

The young woman sat beside him. Those blue eyes fell upon Shiro and the babe in his arms, as she smiled warmly and leaned over in his direction. It appeared that no one could look away from the newest addition; Keith gave a small sigh and looked over to the chest, which was half-open due to being stuffed with dozens of wrapped items, and he wondered why anyone would bestow upon him what looked like a store’s worth of goods.

“Huh?” Keith asked. “How come?”

“You gave us our firstborn son,” chirped Allura with a smile. “There’s no greater gift than that in all of the known universe. The gift-box is just a small way to repay a debt of gratitude that can never truly be repaid; we tried to include all items that you may like, especially those forbidden during the pregnancy itself, and there’s even a little something for Lance.”

“We know how hard it must have been on you, Lance,” said Shiro with a soft voice. “It’s not easy watching your boyfriend have someone else’s child; it’s not much, just a photo-album commemorating our time as Paladins, as well as an ornament of the Blue Lion.”

“Keith has the bulk of the presents, but he did do the bulk of the work. I can’t wait to see you open them; I personally chose the clothes myself, as I thought you would need a new wardrobe, and I included the finest bottles of your planet’s champagne in celebration. There are some rare coffees included, as well as some specialised creams for the stretch marks, and I also included a variety of sweets, too. All lactose-free, of course!”

“We stopped just short of including shellfish,” teased Shiro.

“Ah, yes, there was no way to keep them fresh.”

Keith gave a small laugh, as he saw the purse to Allura’s lips. The young woman raised a crooked finger to her mouth, as she furrowed her brow and looked absently into the distance, and he knew – had she found a means – there likely would have been shellfish included. He struggled to lean over the edge of the bed, but Lance caught his movement and ran to his side and opened the chest for him. A second later, Keith looked down into the box. He felt Lance sit next to him in the bed, where Lance quirked an eyebrow and asked:

“Er, you know there are eggs in here, right?”

Lance picked up the clear plastic box, in which there were two dozen eggs, and carefully put them on the bedside table with a shake of his head. There was a laugh from Shiro, who was already on his feet and bouncing the baby against his chest. Allura appeared not to notice the question at first, as she stood and wandered over to Shiro. Those soft fingers came to rest upon his shoulder, while he free hand brushed the baby’s hair. Allura eventually said:

“They told me that eggs were forbidden during pregnancy.”

“Well, with a soft yolk, yeah, but -?” Keith saw her earnest smile and sighed. “Thanks, Allura. I really appreciate the thoughts. I’ll – er – go through the chest later, I’m just kind of exhausted at the moment. There’s – ah – actually something I wanted to give the kid, too. I don’t know if you want them to know about their heritage, but . . . yeah.”

The room began to feel quite cold. Keith pulled the blankets up to his neck, as he attempted to reach the upper drawer of the beside-table. There was small huff from Lance; Keith – as he winced from being forced to lean – found himself guided back into a sitting position, before a gentle kiss was placed to his forehead and Lance moved for him. The other man reached into the drawer and removed the dagger wrapped in cloth, a gift for Keith from Thace as a babe.

There was a gasp from Allura, who gave an instinctive movement away. The smile was replaced by a brief frown, only to switch back to a smile once more, and she looked away to the window with a strange expression. Shiro simply walked over to his fiancé; he slid the baby into her arms, although his fingers lingered on the baby’s cheeks and his eyes watered just enough to reveal deep emotion, and he stepped back to take the knife from Lance. He held the blade in both hands, where he gave a deep bow of his head and held Keith’s gaze.

“We’ll keep it safe for him,” promised Shiro.

“It’s all I can give him, really.” Keith shrugged and looked away. “I will try to stop by from time to time, maybe check in on him, but . . . you guys don’t need me, right? You aren’t going to expect me to be anything more than just ‘Uncle Keith’, are you?”

“Only if you want to be, Keith. We won’t stop you.”

“No. No, I’m happier like this.”

Keith gave a warm smile and dropped his head back. He stared upward at the ceiling, as his hands smoothed out the blankets and he simply listened to the baby make noise, and he wondered – as he thought back to stories about Thace – whether his other father felt the same relief to be rid of him. They said that Coran managed to save Thace, back when he was discovered as a Resistance member, and a part of Keith longed to find him.

“Just – Just don’t lie to him,” said Keith.

“Hmm? About what?” Allura asked.

“About being adopted, I guess. I mean . . . if he ever wants to come find me or talk to me, I’ll be okay with that. I don’t ever want a parent-child relationship, but I do want him to know the truth and to be able to trust me. I just want what’s best for him.”

Shiro came around the bed to sit beside Keith. There was a possessive arm around his shoulders from Lance, who took his hand and held it tight, but Shiro simply sat in a way that reminded him of their time as children. He remembered crawling into Shiro’s bed after a bad dream, simply being held and reassured, and it felt good to have his friend and brother-figure back in his life, even if things would never be the same again. Shiro reached out to place a hand on Keith’s free arm, where he squeezed affectionately and nodded to him.

“You’ll be a good uncle,” whispered Shiro.

Keith smiled and looked away.


	6. Chapter 6

“Uncle Keith!”

Keith flinched, as the small child dove at him. Those little arms wrapped around his waist, while a smiling face pressed itself against his stomach, and – as he stood with hands in the air, in a gesture of surrender – he felt his entire body tense in awkward fear. Taylor grew up in an extremely affectionate household. Shiro and Allura were prone to constant touches and embraces, while Coran always had time to carry the boy or play-fight or sleep alongside him, and it seemed that no one had taught Taylor about ‘personal boundaries’.

He waited for a long few seconds, until he gave a nervous tap on the boy’s head. Taylor pulled away with a frown. It was the opportunity Keith needed; he took a few steps back, as he looked to Lance with a furrow of his brow and a nod of his head, and Lance – taking the hint – dropped down to lift Taylor onto his shoulders. The boy cried out with soft laughter, as tiny hands wrapped themselves into brown hair. Keith heaved a loud sigh and asked:

“Isn’t it too early for that much energy?”

The way Lance and Taylor looked at him was suspicious. The two of them simply stared for a long time, almost unblinking, before their impassive expressions turned into mischievous grins, and – as he narrowed his eyes and gave a hiss of breath – there erupted two simultaneous cheers from two wide-open mouths. Lance began to run about, as he neighed for the younger boy like a horse, while Taylor kicked and yelled ‘giddy-up’.

Pidge walked beside Keith with a yawn, before she looked about the castle and caught sight of Lance playing with the young boy, before she groaned and asked the same question. It seemed it was too early for everyone except Lance and Taylor. The castle lounge was the perfect temperature, while Coran had laid out a beautiful spread of food onto the coffee-table between the various sofas, and Keith trudged over with the young woman by his side and a loud yawn heavy on his lips. They both took seats opposite one another, while Lance played.

“Is Hunk going to make it?” Keith asked.

There was a small grunt from Pidge. The young woman pushed at her glasses, before she reached out for a small cup and poured herself some coffee, and – as the delicious aroma stole Keith’s full attention – she downed the cup with no regards for its temperature. It was a shame that Hunk had failed to attend the ‘annual weekend’ at the castle, as the various sweets and snacks looked absolutely delicious. Keith took a plate of cake with a lick of his lips.

“Nah, he doesn’t want to leave Shay,” replied Pidge.

“How far along is she now?”

“Five months,” chirped Pidge with a smile. “The average pregnancy for her people is six months, so I can kind of understand not wanting to leave her right now. Speaking of which, I got to ask . . . how’re things with you guys? Looking forward to the new arrival?”

Pidge waggled her eyebrows and gave a half-smile. It brought a scowl to Keith’s face, as he rolled his eyes and instinctively placed a hand to his stomach, where – despite the overall conflicted feelings – he let long fingers rub circles against the rounded flesh. The skin-tight shirt did little to hide the growing child inside, but there was an odd feeling of pride whenever anyone commented or noticed the change. He smiled and shook his head, as he gave a shrug and looked over to his fiancé. Lance was now play-wrestling with Taylor.

“I’m still coming around to the idea,” admitted Keith. “Lance is excited. We’re heading down to Cuba next weekend to tell his family; we’re still debating whether to move down there for good, but it’s such a big commitment and a massive culture shock. It’d be nice to get the family support, though. I can’t raise the child alone.”

“You wouldn’t be alone. You’d have Lance.” Pidge leaned back and sat crossed-legged. “I get what you mean, though; if you both want to work, it’s pretty tough without a family around to help share in the responsibilities. Still, you always got us.”

“Eventually Shiro and Allura will want more kids. It seems unfair to ask them to help out with watching ours on top of that, plus you’re working non-stop and now Hunk has a family of his own, so who are we supposed to ask for help? Lance is totally against hiring a nanny or anything like that. He thinks it’s irresponsible; I guess that’s what I get for dating someone who’s so big on family. It’s a nuisance and a total hassle.”

Pidge gave a soft laugh and shrugged. He watched as she reached out for a new cup of coffee, this one to savour and embrace, and her small hands wrapped around the ceramic and held it just beneath her lips. The steam cast strange clouds upon her glasses, while brining a natural flush to her cheeks. It was a beautiful sight. Keith ran a hand over his stomach, as he glanced over to Lance and saw Lance look back at him. The two men shared a smile, until Taylor jumped up and yanked Lance forward by his arm, and the moment was soon broken.

“Well, we’ll miss you,” said Pidge. “You’re like family.”

He looked back to Pidge and saw the sadness in her eyes; she looked down into the steam with a strange half-smile and half-lidded eyes, and her shoulders were slumped just slightly so that she curled in on herself. Keith knew how close the Paladins had become, but he also knew how close he had become to them in turn. He bit his lip and looked down to his stomach, where he felt the strange movement from within, and gave a sad smile.

There was little time to reply to Pidge: Shiro and Allura entered. The reaction from Taylor was instantaneous; the small boy jumped away from Lance, as he ran to his parents who barely had time to enter the room, and – with one large leap – was in Shiro’s arms. Shiro swung his son around in large circles, as the two laughed, before he dipped him low and pulled him up to rest upon his hip. The love between the two was clear; Taylor may have grown to look more like Keith, but he bore Shiro’s heart and soul.

Allura giggled from behind her hand, as she came across the room to sit beside Pidge. Lance followed and dropped next to Keith with a loud groan, as he threw his arms around the back of the sofa and dipped back his head, and the exhaustion was apparent across his expression, especially with the wide-mouthed yawn. There came a loud cry of greeting from across the hall; Shiro had finally noticed them, as he fought to keep his son from clamouring over him.

“Keith! Lance!” Shiro called. “You made it!”

He came over to them with strong strides. Shiro took a seat on a nearby armchair, where he dropped his son onto his lap, and – like most young children – Taylor seemed at once curious about the others and bored by not being centre of attention. He pulled and tugged on Shiro’s shirt, before babbling incoherently to Lance, and Keith was thankfully spared by the hyperactive playfulness by quick thinking on Pidge’s part. The young woman pulled out a tablet computer and signalled Taylor to her side, as she distracted him with various games.

“Do all kids have that energy?” Keith asked.

“He’s just excited,” said Shiro with eyes upon his son. “He always loves when his favourite uncle comes to visit; Coran tries his best to keep up with him, but it’s difficult at his age to always be bending and lifting and playing. It’s nice for him when he gets younger visitors, because he doesn’t have to worry you’ll get tired playing tag.” Shiro gave a small laugh when Taylor yawned and nuzzled into Pidge. “Of course, he does get tired _some_ times.”

“Yeah, I don’t think Keith’s the tag type,” chirped Pidge. “Every time I come over, it’s always Lance and Coran playing with this little guy. Makes me wonder how Keith even got the title of ‘favourite’ uncle. Hey, little guy?” Pidge gave Taylor a playful poke. “How come he’s your favourite? Does he have an unlimited supply of chocolate or something?”

“He treats me like a grown-up.” Two little eyes were red-rimmed, as eyelids struggled to stay open and lips pursed with various pouts. “He reads me bedtime stories and teaches me how to fix things and – and – and his hair smells like apples! I like apples.”

“Wow, pretty high standards there, kiddo.”

Shiro laughed, as Taylor began to fall asleep. It was almost what Keith would call ‘adorable’, until Allura came over to whisk the young boy into her arms, before he started to whine and cry and fidget, and it was difficult to understand why anyone would fight sleep. The childish sounds grated on him and made him clench his fists, until Allura began to hush the boy and pat his back in an awkward rhythm. A word of apology later, he was taken away.

Keith fell back against the sofa. He heaved a sigh of relief, as Allura headed out of the lounge with her son held warmly in her arms, and – even as he tried his best not to care – he saw the way Taylor smiled at him and gave a small wave. Keith shook his head despite himself, as he raised a hand and waved back. Taylor gave a small laugh and blew a kiss. It brought a smile to Keith’s lips, as his hand fell back to his stomach, and he almost felt a little saddened when Allura took her son away to put him to bed. He lowered his gaze to the floor.

“Do you ever regret giving him up?” Pidge asked.

There was an awkward silence about the room; Shiro gave a small hiss of breath, as he crossed his legs and wetted his lips, while Lance leaned forward and rested his forearms upon his knees, and both men seemed to keep their eyes upon Keith. He gave a small blush and shrugged, as he ran a gloved hand through black hair. The wall opposite was filled with framed photographs of Taylor through various stages of childhood.

“Yes and no,” he admitted, as his eyes fell onto a family photograph. “I sometimes wish he came later, when I was in a position to want a child, but then I wouldn’t be with Lance and Shiro wouldn’t be with Allura . . . I like Lance a lot. I wouldn’t trade him for anything, let alone Taylor, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love Taylor in my way.”

“Oh, gee, thanks,” muttered Lance. “You ‘like’ me?”

“He likes you ‘a lot’,” chirped Pidge.

Lance shook his head with a smile. He nudged Keith with his foot; Keith’s only response was to pout and fold his arms, as he looked away with a pout to his lips and a flush to his cheeks, and – as he listened to their laughter and teasing – he realised that he felt at home. The smile came natural to his lips, as his eyes moved from photograph to photograph, and soon he saw his face smiling back at him. There – behind shining glass – was a photograph of him posing with his young nephew, both with v-signs high in the air. He loved Taylor.

“I’m going to be sad to go,” admitted Keith. “I know growing up is natural; we all have to move away at some point, start families of our own and get careers of our own, but you guys were all the first to welcome me into your lives. I felt like I was a part of something.”

“You’ll always be a part of something,” promised Shiro. “You and Lance are Paladins; you might not have piloted a Lion, or been with us for our adventures, but you’ve proven yourself to be just as much a part of our group as anyone else. It doesn’t matter how far you go, as you’ll always be a part of our lives. We’ll visit, Keith. We’ll also phone and keep in touch. If you ever need anything, all you need is to ask. You’re like my brother.”

“He’s got a point.” Pidge shrugged and pushed at her glasses. “You gave Allura and Shiro the greatest gift anyone can give; they’ve got a son because of you! You’ve been a good pal to us all, too, and you’ve actually helped Lance become a more well-rounded person. Like, a part of me wonders what would have happened had you come with us that day . . .”

“Yeah, like if Shiro hadn’t been so overprotective!” Lance clapped a hand on Keith’s back with a wink, as he said: “You might have been a Paladin instead of Coran. Huh, do you think we’d have still gotten together? I can’t really picture life without you.”

“You guys . . .” Keith shook his head. “Well . . .”

The three of them looked to him with various smiles. Keith blushed, as he clenched his hands into tight fists and rested them upon his thighs. It was difficult to look at them; he stared at the gap between his legs, as he focussed upon the soft material of the sofa, but he felt Lance’s arm slide around his shoulders and a soft kiss touch upon his cheek. Shiro reached out to squeeze his knee, while Pidge gave a huff of amusement and played with her phone. It was nice to be surrounded by people he loved, and he couldn’t help but murmur:

“Thank you, all, for being my friend.”

It took all his energy to say; his heart raced within his chest, as he swallowed hard and narrowed his gaze upon the sofa. The hand on his knee squeezed once more, and – as he looked up – he saw Shiro gaze upon him with the familial affection that had been so common from him in their youth. Shiro spoke in a deep and calm voice:

“You’ll always be a part of the team.”

Keith finally belonged.


End file.
